


Love in the Circle of Magi

by Secrethomeworkassignment



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gothic Romance, Mage-Templar Dynamics (Dragon Age), cw for sexual assault (memory), cw for social violence, cw for violence in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 03:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secrethomeworkassignment/pseuds/Secrethomeworkassignment
Summary: Grace reckons with Cullen's past as she begins to fall in love with him.





	Love in the Circle of Magi

**Author's Note:**

> Grace/Cullen is by far the darkest of my DA romances. There's a lot going on here. Its a sort of loose continuation of my other Grace/Cullen stuff, A Shot Across the Bow, An Understanding Reached, and Harrowing, but I think it mostly stands alone. Consider the tags and take care of yourselves, friends, this one is kind of a bummer <3 <3 <3

Grace lay naked in Cullen’s bed in his sparsely furnished tower room, running her fingers through the soft golden curls that covered his chest, moving her hands languidly down his stomach to his groin. They were both glowing with perspiration, and Cullen’s satisfied breathing was as deep and rhythmic as waves hitting the shore and drawing back again on a clear day. 

After months of courtly flirtation and mounting tension, it was the first time they had allowed themselves to be together that way. Physically, Grace had never felt so fulfilled. After Cullen’s initial bold charge of sweeping everything off his desk and throwing her down on it, Grace had usurped control and told him exactly how to pleasure her, which he had done as he did everything he put his mind to- diligently. 

However Grace’s physical appetite paled in comparison to her all-consuming desire to know, the hunger to understand another person that had always been her primary erotic drive. Curiosity was almost too playful a word, for to understand was to possess. And in that sense Grace was still hungry. Even with his powerful naked body spread out before her, every scar and freckle offered up for exploration, Grace felt that she had yet to know this man. 

She smiled coquettishly and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.

“This, Commander, seems like the perfect moment to spoil by asking you to tell me about every lover you’ve had before me.”

Cullen laughed, sitting up in bed to bury his face in his hands.

“We’ve spoken about the Hero of Ferelden,” she continued, “but surely there were others.” 

“Maker... Grace, you certainly know how to throw an old soldier off his guard.”

He looked at her beseechingly, but she just stared back with an expression of innocent expectation.

“You’re really asking?” Cullen sighed, defeated. “Well I suppose I’ll tell you, but you must promise to repay me in kind.”

Cullen got up and poured two glasses of Antivan brandy from a decanter nestled among his few personal items on a large cedar chest.

“I had a deeply involved relationship with the Hero of Ferelden in our years together at the Circle. It was very passionate. It just happened to be entirely in my head. After that… well I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell. When I arrived in Kirkwall, before I became Knight Captain, I had a dalliance with another Templar, but we had little in common apart from boredom and curiosity and we soon lost interest in each other.” Cullen paused, sipping his brandy with a frown. 

“Then… I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that” said Grace, sipping delicately from her glass and sitting up against the pillows. “I’m no blushing virgin myself.”

Inwardly, she prepared herself for the worst. An impressionable young apprentice perhaps? Someone who desperately wanted to stay on the Knight Captain’s good side? 

“When I was at Kirkwall it was not uncommon for templars to visit a house called the Blooming Rose. I assume you know what that is?”

“I have an idea” Grace answered, breathing a silent sigh of relief. If his big confession was patronizing a brothel, she really had nothing to fear.

Cullen rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Of course it was forbidden, but Meredith never seemed to care. We used to go right after we were dosed with lyrium- when we had so much energy we didn’t know what else to do with ourselves. The workers there were very good at what they did. Most were nice people if you bothered to talk with them. But still, it wasn’t the same as… as being with someone who loves you.”

Grace smiled softly. “We find comfort where we can. That’s perfectly natural.”

“Ugh,” Cullen made a face as he swallowed a healthy draught of brandy. “I used to go there with Samson. There’s a thought to make you shudder. In any case, when I was promoted to Knight Captain, I stopped going with the others and started charging templars caught at The Rose with conduct unbecoming of a knight. But I still went in secret.” 

He turned to look at her, gently caressing the side of her face.

“I never imagined then that I would meet someone like you.”

Cullen set his glass back on the table and pulled Grace back into his arms. 

“And what about you, Inquisitor? This was meant to be a fair exchange of information. Who else has had the privilege of waking up to your fair face?”

“As it happens, my first love was a Templar.”

Cullen looked genuinely scandalized. 

“It was a chaste love,” she added quickly. “And as one-sided as yours for the Hero of Ferelden.” 

“I must say I’m surprised. Tell me how he won you over.”

Grace let her head fall back against his strong shoulder, settling in to tell her tale.

“His name was Iman. Ostwick was like any other circle- it had its better and worse knights- but Iman really did protect us. 

When I was at Ostwick a man named Bremer held the office of Knight Commander. Bremer prided himself on keeping a quiet circle. It was nothing like the Gallows, there were no whispers of rebellion, nor had a mage been executed or made tranquil there in years. Bremer took extraordinary measures to ensure that everyone stayed happy enough to avoid a fuss. He also took great care to maintain good relationships with the local nobles, ensuring that Ostwick was the most well-funded circle in the Free Marches.” 

“So I heard” said Cullen. “The leadership at Kirkwall envied Bremer. But Meredith always claimed it was because he let things slide.” 

“She wasn’t wrong.” Grace closed her eyes. This was not a pleasant tale to tell.

“A few years after I came to the circle, Bremer raised the son of a powerful Ostwick noble, Shayne Townsend, to the office of Knight Captain. Knight Captain Townsend taught me a great deal about life. Most importantly that violence in a Circle of Magi doesn’t always involve annulment or tranquility.” 

...

Light streams through high windows and gleams off mahogany shelves and gold leafed bindings in the magnificent library of the Ostwick Circle of Magi. Grace has slipped out of her Fundamentals of Magic lecture to hide in the stacks and pursue her own interests. She freezes when she hears voices on the other side of the shelf and quietly slips a book out of place to see who’s there. She is surprised to see her favorite teacher locked in a hushed argument with Knight Captain Townsend. Senior Enchanter Lydia seems upset, but Townsend is laughing. He has her cornered against a bookcase. 

“Ah, Lydia. Sweet Lydia…” Townsend whispers, looming over her. “Have you been waiting for me all alone?” 

Shayne snakes his hands lasciviously around Lydia’s waist, but she struggles away from him. 

“Listen, you gilded piece of shit” she hisses. “I’ve had enough of this. Make all the threats you want, but this ends here. You’ll have no favors from me. I’m reporting you to the Knight Commander.” 

Townsend snickers. He doesn’t look the least bit concerned. 

“Oh you are, are you?” he drawls, his voice dripping with smug contempt. “Well I guess I had better mend my ways. Lydia, you know as well as I do how this goes if you run your mouth to Bremer. I’ll claim you made advances, and when I refused…”

Townsend continues assaulting her as he speaks, pressing his mouth to her ear.

“…you made up lies about me in a fit of jealous rage. Of course my father will come forward to defend the reputation of our house, and then it will just be the word of a bitter old witch against that of an exemplary Templar knight and all the solicitors and rhetors of House Townsend. You’re such a clever girl, Lydia, I know you’ll be sensible about this.” 

Lydia stares him defiantly in the face as he runs his hands over her breasts. Her eyes burn with hatred. 

“I’m past caring about my reputation. Even if a complaint gets me nowhere, it will be worth it just to put you through the inconvenience.”

Townsend clucks his tongue in mock disapproval. 

“Really, Lydia? Consider this- after you make a fuss and it comes to nothing, I just won’t feel like I can trust you anymore. I’ll have to find a new companion to get me through the long, cold nights. You’re too old for me anyway- but the apprentices… a few ripe little berries there. Grace Trevelyan, for a start. I would love to have a taste of Armand Trevelyan’s bastard. I’ll bet she’s a slut, just like her mother…”

Lydia’s face fills with panic. 

“Shayne, wait. You… you’re right. I was being unreasonable. We had an agreement. Take what you want from me, just leave my students alone.” 

“I knew you’d come ‘round.” 

Lydia stands as stiff as a board, her face ashen, as Townsend starts to slip a hand down the front of her robe. 

He doesn’t get very far before a figure appears at the door to the library. 

“Knight Captain? What’s going on here?” asks Iman, looking from Townsend to Lydia in confusion. 

Townsend freezes. They both turn to look at the young Templar in the doorway.

“It’s nothing, Knight” says Townsend, attempting to sound both casual and authoritative. “I have the situation in hand. Return to your duties.”

But Iman sees the fear on Lydia’s face, the silent plea in her eyes. 

“Enchanter, is he bothering you?” Iman asks.

“Are you deaf?” barks Townsend. “I said return to your duties!” 

Iman doesn’t move

“If you must know, the Enchanter made an inappropriate advance on me. She took advantage of my exhaustion after a long day to try to tempt me into sin. I’m glad you came when you did brother, or I might have succumbed.” said Townsend, trying a different approach. 

“That wasn’t how it looked to me” replied Iman coldly. He looked again from the Knight Captain to Lydia. “I’ll just go have and a word with the Knight Commander.” 

“You expect him to believe you? Over me?” Townsend sneered. 

“I’ll take my chances.”

Townsend is furious now. 

“You insignificant son of a bitch!” he spits. “Do you know who my father is?”

Iman looks at Lydia. “Enchanter? If you’d rather not be alone, you can come with me. The Knight Commander should be in his office.” 

For a moment, no one moves, then Lydia rushes to Iman and follows him quickly out of the room. 

...

Cullen pursed his lips, troubled by a story that sounded all too familiar. 

“So few of us truly understand the vows we take. It sounds like Iman did. What happened? Did the Knight Commander believe him?

“It's hard to say. Shayne Townsend was transferred to another circle. Bremer had Iman confined to his quarters on a charge of insubordination and withheld his lyrium for two weeks. We never heard any more about it. But I idolized Iman after that.” 

“You never told him?” Cullen asked, running his fingers through her hair.

“Maker, no. He was in enough trouble as it was.” 

“So you admired him in secret. Was there no one else?” 

Grace scoffed, looking up at Cullen with an impish gleam in her eye. 

“It was a circle tower, Cullen. There’s only so much to do that isn’t bedding every other mage you know.” 

Cullen chuckled at this, but after a moment he grew serious. 

“Grace, what’s happened with Rainier should make me consider very seriously whether I’ve been honest with you about my time in Kirkwall. I could try to excuse myself by saying that I was only following Meredith’s orders, but that would not be true. I made plenty of mistakes of my own volition. I could hide behind the ways that I’ve tried to better myself since leaving Kirkwall, but that would make me no better than Rainier… Blackwall… whatever he calls himself now.” 

Cullen released his arms from around Grace’s shoulders. Suddenly it didn’t feel right trying to keep her close. 

“If we're going to be together... Like this... It's important that you understand how complicated life at Kirkwall was... and how much damage I did, whatever my intention, to the people in my care.”

Grace was regarding him with the utmost seriousness now. 

“Go on.” she said softly. 

Cullen knit his brow. He struggled to find the words, but he continued. 

“I became a Templar because I wanted to serve the Maker. But by the time I got to Kirkwall, I had seen Calenhad fall to blood magic, and my homeland ravaged by the Blight. I didn't know the Maker. I was furious with him. 

As a boy, I believed that the Maker created a good world, full of wonders, magic among them. That he had sent Andraste to reveal his will to us when we had gone astray, to be with us forever. But after everything I'd seen, it was more like... I don't know... Like the Maker had created chaos and just walked away. 

When I was being tortured by Uldred’s demons I prayed to Andraste to deliver me and she never came. I began to feel like I served a god who demanded everything from me and answered my prayers with nothing but suffering.

And silence. 

I would have been unfit for duty anywhere. But Kirkwall... 

The more I tried to do the right thing, the more suffering I caused. Instead of being sent back to Greenfell where I belonged, Knight Commander Meredith made me an officer.”

...  
A heavy knocking at his office door pulls Knight Captain Cullen’s attention from the pile of reports on his desk. 

“Enter” he calls out. 

A young Templar opens the door and approaches his desk with a smart salute.

“Knight Captain? We found her. She was at the docks in Lowtown attempting to board a ship to Rivain. Should I bring her to the Knight Commander?” 

Cullen sighs. He is relieved that the missing mage was located before she had the chance to get beyond the city walls. 

“No. Don’t trouble the Knight Commander. Bring her to me.” 

The knight salutes him again and leaves to fetch the offending mage. He reenters with another knight who escorts a young woman, bound at the wrists and dirty.

Cullen looks the girl over. Leyla is a quiet young mage, she has never been in trouble before. He is surprised at her. 

“Please,” Cullen says to Leyla, gesturing at the chair across from his desk. “Sit down.” 

He instructs the knights to wait outside. 

“Well? Was it worth it?” he asks, in a stern but gentle voice. “You must have known you’d be caught.” 

The girl stares silently at the floor.

“I’m sure you’re aware that the penalty for apostatizing is death. That’s been the policy here since Knight Commander Meredith took office. So Leyla, I would love to know- what could possibly be so important to you outside the Circle that you would be willing to forfeit your life?” 

Leyla looks as if she is about to cry. “I…” she stammers before trailing off.

“Well?” 

The words come pouring out of Leyla in a panicked jumble.

“Knight Captain, please don’t tell the Knight Commander. Please forgive me. I’m… I’m pregnant. I thought if I could make it to Rivain then I could keep my baby. I swear I never meant any harm. I’m not a maleficar. It was stupid. Let me come back to the circle, I won’t do it again. Please Knight Captain…”

Cullen folds his hands on his desk. He is disappointed in her. Worse, he is troubled that she was able to conceive in the first place. Measures were taken with every mage to ensure that their curse could not be passed to future generations. But they were not foolproof. 

“Pregnant, Leyla? How did this happen? Who is the father? Another mage?” 

Leyla doesn’t answer.

“I want to help you, but I can only help you if you tell me the truth.” 

Tears start falling down Leyla’s cheeks. “Philip. It’s Philip Highever.” 

Cullen can feel a ball of tension forming behind his eyes. He rubs his forehead. A Templar. He should have guessed. 

“Fine. Thank you, Leyla. You did the right thing. The Knight Commander doesn’t need to know about this. You’ll be permitted to return to the circle.” 

Leyla’s expression breaks into a smile of deep relief. 

Cullen calls the two knights back into his office. He addresses the female knight.

“Brigid, take Leyla to the infirmary and have her prepared to undergo the rite.” 

Leyla’s relieved smile transforms into a mask of horror.

“But… you said you would help me…” she gasped.

“And I have. You have your life. You’ll be able to carry your child to term and it will be well cared for by the Chantry sisters. It's the best I could do. Try to be grateful.” 

The Templars bring Leyla to her feet and prepare to lead her away. She lets her gaze fall to the ground as her tears drop on to the floor. 

“Thank you, Knight Captain” she whispers. 

When they leave and Cullen is once more alone in his office, he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. A shadow of doubt passes over his face, but the next moment it is gone. He returns to his work.

...

Grace listened intently as Cullen spoke, her expression opaque as the glassy surface of a well. When he was finished making his confession, Cullen turned to look at her.

“It is difficult,” she began carefully, “to know what to say…”

Cullen shook his head. He knew he couldn’t expect her to hear something like that and simply set it aside. “You don’t have to say anything. It was a terrible thing that I did, and a terrible thing for you to have to hear.” 

“Is there anything else, Cullen? That I should know?”

There was. So much that he couldn’t even begin to tell it all. But he shook his head again. “No, no that’s the worst of it. But it’s enough.”

Cullen got up and walked to the window. The sun was not quite rising over the mountains, but it was well past midnight. 

Grace got up and joined him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Cullen felt a sharp ache in his chest at the warm touch of her hand. 

“Inquisitor, please believe that if you wish to... Stop seeing me this way, it will not impact how I carry out my duties. Just say the word, and this ends.”

Grace continued to run her hand along his shoulder, tracing the scars that ran down his arm like rain down a window. 

“Cullen, I know how it feels to be handed more more authority than you know what to do with. I may live to regret my decisions as Inquisitor as you now regret yours. Good intentions do not make a good man, but you at least have learned from your mistakes. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

Cullen turned back to Grace, and she put her hand up to his cheek, running her thumb over the scar above his lip. Fear was not something she was accustomed to seeing in his golden brown eyes, but it was there now. The worry had settled into the lines on his face, and for once the Commander showed his age. 

“Grace…” he whispered.

“This has not been an easy conversation, but there are plenty more to be had and plenty of time to have them.” she said, he expression full of tenderness. “For now, we both could stand to get some sleep.”

Cullen nodded, somewhat reassured.

She stood on her toes to kiss him once lightly on the lips and again on his tightly knit brow. She dressed and Cullen caught her hand before she left. She embraced him and left his little tower room for the cold night air of the ramparts. 

The wind bit Grace’s face and hands as she made her way along the wall to the door that led back to her quarters. She pulled her woolen cloak more tightly around her shoulders. There was part of her that would have liked nothing better than to fall asleep with her head on Cullen’s chest in his cozy, disheveled little tower, but there was something she had to do, and she refused to do it while he slept unsuspecting in her arms. 

She had always known that she would do it, from the moment she felt the first spark of feeling for him, though up till now she had resisted. She only hoped he had been able to fall asleep. 

When she got back to her quarters, Grace sat for a time on the balcony staring into the darkness of the valley below, steeling herself. When she came back in, she didn’t even bother to undress. She lay back on her feather bed and began breathing deeply, slowly, until she felt herself slipping over to the other side. 

Once in the Fade, Cullen was easily found. His mind was troubled, but he was glad when she approached him. 

You came back…

I did. Cullen, there’s something I’d like you to show me...

...

Grace sees through Cullen’s eyes the interior of the former Knight Commander’s office in the Gallows. Outside the window Kirkwall is in flames. Five templars including Cullen confront four mages who sit bound in the center of a room. One of the mages, a young elven man called Eoin, is pleading with his captors. 

“Please, Knight Captain, Enchanter Tullia couldn't have taken part in Orsino’s spell. She wasn’t here. She was at the Circle in Antiva City. She had no idea what Orsino had planned, none of us did.”

Cullen is at his wit’s end. He wipes the blood from his upper lip, split open by a shard of flying rock during the battle earlier that day. 

“You expect me to believe the First Enchanter didn’t enlist the help of his closest colleague to cast an extremely dangerous and complicated spell? That he didn’t involve his most promising students? Do you think this is a game, Eoin? Do you have any idea how many people have died today?”

Eoin is distraught, almost at the point of sobbing. 

“I’ve told you already, Tullia was away! And we… we had no idea. Please, just let her go!”

“It’s alright, Eoin, try to calm yourself,” said one of the other prisoners, a petite human woman with close cropped silver hair. 

Cullen couldn’t listen to this much longer, the mage was obviously lying. 

“If Tullia had indeed been absent from the Gallows our records would reflect as much. I checked the log myself. There was no conference in Antiva City. However, we do have records that Tullia requested dangerous materials from the stores two weeks ago. Materials consonant with the blood rites performed by the First Enchanter.”

Cullen turned to Tullia. 

“Orsino grew more radical each day. But Tullia... I expected better from you.” 

The Senior Enchanter regarded him with cool defiance. “I could say the same, Cullen.” 

“I don’t know why I’m still listening to this” Cullen snarled. “This is a farce. Brennan, take the maleficarum to the yard.”

“No!” Eoin cried in a panic. “Knight Captain, just listen to me… listen for a minute.”

“Eoin, be still.” said Tullia. “He’s made up his mind.”

The templars pull Eoin, Tullia, and the rest of the prisoners to their feet. 

“Wait!” cried Eoin, struggling with the Templar that has him firmly by the arm. “Talk to Jules! Find Jules! He went with her.”

Cullen slams an armored fist on the table, shattering a goblet.

“You have been testing the limit of my patience since I came to Kirkwall and you have finally found it!” he roars. “Revered Mother Elthina and countless others are dead because of one mage’s vendetta. Kirkwall is in flames. I trusted the First Enchanter and he transformed into a horror in front of my own eyes. If I am to protect the citizens of Kirkwall and the mages who escaped Orsino’s folly I must root out the influence of blood magic in this circle. I have ample evidence to claim your lives ten times over. And you think you can continue to manipulate me? You have taken advantage of my leniency for far too long. I am not Meredith but nor am I your fool. Take them to the yard. Make it quick and make it clean.” 

The four imprisoned mages are led outside and lined up on their knees. The Templar Brennan leans over and whispers a prayer to Senior Enchanter Tullia, who answers by completing the verse. Brennan brings his sword down on her neck in one fluid stroke. Eoin gasps. A young Templar bursts into Cullen’s office and immediately falls to one knee. 

“Knight Captain, I went with the Senior Enchanter. I escorted her to Antiva City. I will testify on her behalf,” gasped Jules, out of breath and panting.

“Speak.”

“I’ve escorted Senior Enchanter Tullia in her travels outside the circle for a few years now. Two weeks ago I took her to a conference in Antiva City... It was… counter-magic something like that. When we returned the circle was in chaos. I never left her side, Knight Captain. She couldn’t have been involved. 

Cullen stared at him. “The journey wasn’t logged.” 

Jules’s face flushed red with shame. 

“Knight Captain… we were in a hurry. I knew the roads would be bad with the rain and it might take us a few extra days. Forgive me. I forgot.” 

Outside, Eoin is weeping. Tullia’s head lies severed from her body on the ground. 

“If you wish to pray, I’ll wait for you to finish. But do not stall,” says Brennan as he brings the sword up to the elf’s neck. 

Cullen runs out to the yard.

“Stop!” he cries. “Stand down! Release them.” Cullen turns to the prisoners. “You’re free to return to your quarters. Brennan, bring the Senior Enchanter’s remains to the infirmary.”

Brennan answers with a terse salute. “Ser.” 

Eoin is screaming as Brennan unbinds his hands.

“I told you! I bloody well told you we were innocent! But now it's too late, isn’t it? Monster. Who’s the abomination now?”

Cullen can’t look at him.

“Return to your quarters.” 

The severed head of Senior Enchanter Tullia bleeding out on the cobblestones catches his eyes and he quickly looks away. He orders one of his knights to take it away. 

Enough. 

Grace has seen enough. 

...  
Grace woke the next morning with a head full of fog. She caught a glimpse of herself in the silver mirror that hung above her vanity and grimaced- she had purple circles under her eyes and she looked even paler and more wan than usual. 

Grace was accustomed to rising early- she liked the peace of Skyhold before it was bustling with people, but she could already hear the breakfast bell ringing in the yard. Grace sighed and pulled on a pair of leather breeches and a clean white linen shirt, resisting the urge to fall back into bed. The night had been one of soaring peaks and plunging valleys- neither of which had offered much meaningful rest.

The morning was mild and cool as Grace hurried down the stone steps that lead from the ramparts to the yard. As she strode past the stables, she saw Blackwall emerge into the gentle sunshine with a yawn and a mighty stretch and slowed her steps to allow him to catch up with her. 

In spite of recent revelations regarding his sordid past, Grace’s confidence in Blackwall had never wavered. She had sensed from the start that he wasn’t entirely on the up and up, for he hadn’t been very good at hiding it, and somehow she had found that comforting. What had her father always said? Always trust an honest knave over a virtuous man, for at least with the former you know what to expect. 

“Rough night, widget?” asked Blackwall, falling into step beside her. 

Grace smiled ruefully. “Ah, no. Just a lot on my mind.”

“You look tired” he observed, noting the dark shadows under her eyes. 

“Don’t you know that’s the last thing you’re supposed to say to a lady?” 

Blackwall snorted. 

“Blackwall…” Grace knew this could be an sensitive question for her friend with the recently uncovered criminal past, but if anyone could speak with authority on the subject, it was him. “Do you think that people can truly change?” 

Blackwall raised a bushy eyebrow at her. 

“What exactly are we talking about here? If you mean me, I certainly hope so. That’s kind of the whole idea, isn’t it?”

“I… mean someone else. I meant in a general sense.”

Blackwell resisted the urge to prod her into getting more specific. He took a deep breath. 

“Well, I don’t know, widget. I hope so. I guess it depends on whether or not they want to.” 

Across the yard, Grace spotted Cullen queuing up in front of the mess hall with the rest of the Inquisition troops. Her heart tightened in her chest. He looked worn out too. Grace had made sure he wouldn’t remember his dream, but she wondered if the feeling of it had lingered. The morning sun shone off the glossy sable of his cloak and formed a halo in his light brown curls, which he hadn’t gotten around to combing back that morning. 

Suddenly he looked up from his conversation with another soldier, catching her eye as she passed. His expression was full of longing and tenderness, like he wanted nothing more than to rush to her side. 

Grace had been chastened by what she saw when she went searching through Cullen’s memories. It had been as she had feared- he was in every way the monster he was reported to have been. Was he still? Could he ever not be? 

It had been wrong of her, she knew that. It was a power she had forsworn the use of since she was old enough to understand what a violation it was to trespass on another consciousness. But she wasn’t sorry she had done it. She needed to know who he really was. Armed with that knowledge, she felt strong enough to stay... to see who he would become. 

Grace smiled radiantly at him from across the courtyard, pressing her hand to her heart. His face broke into a boyish grin. He returned her gesture, pressing his hand to his heart.


End file.
